


Chalk

by mandaree1



Series: it ain't technically a baby draft if they're your kids [23]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Bad Ending, Brief battle descriptions, But also no one gives it, By battle I mean it's primarily Michelle flying around wildly with a knife, Michelle needs help and almost everyone recognizes it, Not canon to the world, Prime being a creepy mofo, SURPRISE I'M BACK, Toxic ass everything tbh, Toxic mindsets all around lads, Typical religious cult crap we all expect from Prime and CO, mild body horror, this is an au of an au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:15:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24407161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandaree1/pseuds/mandaree1
Summary: Michelle falls prey to Horde Prime's whims.
Series: it ain't technically a baby draft if they're your kids [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1276295
Comments: 3
Kudos: 24





	1. Chapter 1

The air is clean but somehow gritty at once, as if there was enough cleansing powder it became tangible. It settled on Michelle's tongue as she pulled a chair out and sat down.

"No need to do that," Horde Prime said. "One of my Brothers would be more than willing."

This does not strike Michelle as politeness. Rather, it's a demand. _Don't stand unless I allow it. Don't sit unless I allow it. I'm in control here._ "You saw me," she said, her voice wobbling only slightly.

"I did." He gestured to a purpleish goo on her plate. "Eat, child. It's best when the creature is freshly dead."

Michelle eats. Horde Prime does not. She's not certain he requires food; not in the same capacity she would, at least. His build may be relatively Etherian by nature, but there was nothing natural about him.

But he smiles. Oh, stars, does he smile. Like this is the greatest achievement of his life. "The species is a creature of camouflage," he explained. "It tried to hide from me. Much like you."

Michelle swallows, somehow undaunted and very daunted in the same instant. "You did the same thing to Commander Glimmer."

He tilted his head to the side. "One must enjoy the pleasures of life."

"Are you going to kill me?"

"Perhaps."

"Are you going to serve me to your next dinner guest?"

Horde Prime smiles. It's not right to describe it more, or wider. He just smiles. Michelle isn't sure he ever stops. "I enjoy your humor, child, but Etherian isn't kind to the taste buds. Too stringy."

"Weird flex, but alright." Michelle takes another bite, letting him stare as she eats. Finally, she broaches the problem, "I've never had someone see me when I was invisible before."

"Ah," he says. "Poor child. You've grown in a place so dark and old. I see you, just as I see the cosmos. A little magic cannot stop that."

The clone beside her speaks. "Horde Prime sees all. Horde Prime knows all."

Michelle looks at the clone, then him. "Knowing everything must suck."

Prime's smile shifts a little, showing off sharp teeth. "It is a sacrifice I bear with great willingness, child."

"And what do you know about me?"

The alien overlord stands. Michelle tenses, but a quick look from the clone tells her not to try anything. A metal finger trails across the table as he strolls over to her, making a gentle _skreeeeee_ noise.

"You were born of ancient customs," he tells her. "The daughter of a Commander and an archer."

"Techmaster. My dad is Techmaster."

"Alas, being a master of Etherian technology is the equivalent of being able to walk and breathe to the rest of the universe, child. A Commander is a replaceable rank. Truly, you are nothing of note." His hand touches her shoulder; then, with the kind of boldness that would usually get someone gravely injured, he slipped his hand towards her back. The fingers rested on the shoulderblades, pressing down just enough for the fabric to brush what had once been some perfectly fine wings, and which she knew personally were now patchy and barely holding themselves together. Michelle stiffened, flashes of blood and cold metal hiding behind her eyes. "I know you were once a being of flight."

She felt herself begin to shake, fingers digging into her knees. "I'm not- I couldn't, they weren't... they weren't big enough."

"A shame and a waste," he tuts. "I will fix this."

Michelle ducked out of her chair completely, sending it clattering to the ground. She pulled out her favorite knife and pointed it at Prime. The clone stepped up and went to strike her down, only for Prime to stop him with the wave of his hand.

"I don't need _fixing_ ," she growled.

"Nonsense. Every cog needs oil to work." He crossed his hands behind his back, looking amused by her response. "Why do you fight progress, child? Don't you wish to be... better?"

"I'm not an idiot," she snapped. "You don't just _hand out_ care for the enemy."

"Etheria is to be my prized jewel, my dear. I want to make it shine in my collection. You are no exception to that." There was something Prime's eyes that made her feel small when he spoke. Something like pity. "I don't blame you, child. You've been raised in such a horrible, backwater world. I wish to fix that. I wish to fix _you_. Won't you come into my light?"

There was movement out of the corner of her eye, and Michelle turned to see more clones coming into the room. None of them approached her, simply taking up spaces in corners of shadows to watch. Insurance.

Michelle got the feeling this wasn't much of a question, either.

Something clicked. In her eyes. In her stance. Prime began to smile again, though he'd never quite frowned, taking that last step towards her. The very tip of her blade brushed his tunic. "My little brother's memories of you are hazy, but I have seen enough to know you could be something amazing. Pledge your loyalty to me, child, and you will never feel broken again."

Michelle's grip faltered, and with it her hand. Her knife slowly, slowly came to her side again. "I don't understand," she said finally. "Why would you... fix me? You know enough to know I'm nothing but trouble."

Prime tsked. "My little brother made so many errors with Etheria. He made an error when he tried to crush the light within you. He always was one to break his toys." The hand cupped her cheek now, the metal finger cold against her skin. "We all want the same thing, at the end of the day. Peace. I could crush you, just as I've crushed many in the past, but destruction can be so... tiring." Sharp edges dug into her chin. "Won't you let me make you sparkle, jewel?"

She swallowed, lowering her head. Michelle didn't have it in her to trust him, but she didn't have it in her to trust most anyone anymore. If there was one thing she was certain of, it was that Horde Prime clearly seemed to believe in what he was saying wholeheartedly, and that made someone powerful. Much more powerful than the clones or the ships.

"I haven't had a purpose in a long time," she rasped. "I'm... a bit rusty."

"Sometimes, older gears must bend for newer ones. Etheria will bend. I believe you can too." Prime's hand was sliding again, this time settling on the base of her neck. It felt possessive. It felt icky. It felt like... like it didn't matter what she felt anymore, because it was too late for that now. "Just say yes."

Michelle let her hand go slack, knife falling to her feet. She slowly, clumsily, jerked her head in a nod.

Prime's fingers tightened. The wolf had tasted blood.

"That's my jewel," he crooned.


	2. Bonus Chapter Booiiiisssss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michelle learns the ins and outs of Prime's many "gifts"

Michelle sensed Prime before his footsteps reached her ears. The god's favorite phrase tended to work both ways, she'd learned; just as he heard and saw all, the clones heard and saw him. The Hive practically buzzed with curiosity whenever he so much as _twitched._ And when he left his sanctum to follow after some strange Etherian, the noise was deafening. The back of her skull itched.

"My Jewel," he rumbled as he approached. They all called her Jewel, but only Prime could add "my" to it. The familiar weight of his hand settled on her shoulder. A metal pointer traced the injection spot of her chip, and Michelle shuddered. "You don't like my gift?" Prime asked, almost seeming to pout a little.

"I'm honored to have received it, Lord Prime," she responded, avoiding the root of that particular question entirely.

"Something is troubling you."

"A bit." Michelle tried not to think much about Etheria. She knew that, as one single person, she couldn't save it. She knew she was trapped too deep into this web to walk out now. Sprouting from her back were strands of metallic silk, twisting into sickening shapes as they coiled around her shoulders, tapering together by two small metal ridges that creaked. Wings. "Not everyone is so willing to become a cog."

His top and bottom eyelids blinked. "A broken gear is still a gear, my child. All will fit as they should. Though some may fit in... strange angles."

Michelle smelled the sea and tried not to tremble. She wondered if Pearl was safe. Hoped. She just didn't know what safety was anymore. "Etherians are a bit wild, I mean. Please give us the time to-" Horde Prime tapped her chipped neck once with his claw, and she stopped speaking with a grimace.

"Ah, I see. You have a darling." He tilted his head back, lips quirking. "Yesss, I can see her now. Definitely an Etherian model- all stubbornness and independence. How her heart has been led astray from truth."

She tensed. "It's not- I would never betray you for her."

"Of course not. I would not allow it." Horde Prime's smile deepened, becoming sinister. "If I will it, she can be yours."

Cold sloshed into her insides. "I... don't understand."

"Serve me well, My Jewel, and I will give you a stone of your own. It will be lumpy, perhaps a bit tarnished, but all yours. Your own natural pearl."

Michelle jerked free from his grip, whirling around with wide eyes. Her wings hit the window, scraping along the surface in horrific screams. "I couldn't!" she yelped, then rephrased. "I mean, I shouldn't, Lord Prime. That it... I'm not fit for such a gift."

Horde Prime's eyes narrowed. All four. That meant business. "Ah. So there is much for you to learn yet." She tensed, and he waved her away. "Don't fret, Jewel. I didn't expect your learning to be fixed overnight. Even the loveliest of jewelry requires proper shining. But the galaxy is large, and the lives of any one planet are very, very little."

"I'm sorry, Lord Prime," she spluttered. "I didn't- I've only ever seen the one."

"Shall we expand that?" he replied, but it wasn't an actual question. "I have a nearby moon that contains the proper mix of oxygen your would need to survive. It is a favorite view of mine." Horde Prime studied her a moment. "This isn't a punishment, Jewel. This is a gift. _Rejoice_."

"T-Thank you, Lord Prime."

He tutted, shaking his head. "Much to learn yet," he echoed.

* * *

The further from Prime's light, the more rough-looking the clones become. This is fairly normal, or so she's learned- it's not as if Prime has the time to stop for every scrape and scratch. Imperfections must be withstood as to prove loyalty and patience.

The bunch on Moon 513 are not above this rule. Almost all of them seemed to have chips and rips in their ears, or the odd blunted claw. The one who helps her out of her envoy is the worst: face dimpled with scars across the mouth and top ridge of the left eye; a missing chunk of lip, a little fang peeking out from around the edges.

"We have had difficulties," is his greeting, as he is no doubt used to this by now.

Michelle shuffled a metallic wing and shrugged. "I think we're in like company."

The clone's lip quirked. "I suppose we are, Jewel."

Once, she would've corrected him, but she knows now not to go against Horde Prime. She took his hand and stepped onto the dusty surface. The moon was... well, it was a moon. It was the 513th moon on this particular patch of the stars. From its surface rose the customary tower base- a steely patchwork of almost vine-like circuits and bobbles. It made Michelle a bit ill to look at; it looked a lot like her wings. Like walls of flesh.

The clone seemed to notice her discomfort, and purposefully avoided commenting on it, squeezing her hand before letting go. "I have been requested to guide you to Lord Prime's observatory. There you shall live and study the stars for as long as he deems fit."

"What about your _difficulties_?" she asked.

"Not a problem to tarnish a jewel over," he replied, interlocking their arms to walk to the base. Michelle thought it a bit silly; it wasn't like she planned to run. Where would she even go? "Rogues from other stars trying to blot out the light. A fairly common problem, sadly."

Michelle shifted her cloak to show him a knife. "I was a soldier before I was jewelry."

"Multi-faceted! No wonder Lord Prime has taken a shine to you."

"He likes a fixer-upper."

The clone smiled, and didn't argue.

* * *

Michelle made herself at home in the observatory. It was a ridiculously lush room, even compared to Prime's normal schmaltz. The chairs are padded and soft; a dark, rich purple that almost looked brown in the right light. Sleek wooden tables settled in random corners, drizzled with various toys and technological marvels she didn't pretend to comprehend. The lighting is warm but low, making a constant squint a necessity if you wanted to read something.

The telescope is easily the strangest portion of the room. It was large and bendy, a bit like when she would fiddle with weeds as a child. But Etheria hadn't had stars in many, many millennium now, and so the planet's study of space has been remarkably limited. Simply looking into eyepiece was enough to make Michelle dizzy- the sheer amount of adjusting, moving, and cleaning the lens required made it impossibly confusing.

It doesn't help, then, that Horde Prime has tasked her with making a star map.

There is no time limit for this task, thankfully, but Michelle knows the map isn't the point. Knows she's supposed to look out over this sea of stars and planets and other space things and realize, _wow, Lord Prime truly has so much, and one life is so little. I am one part of this whole._ And maybe she is. Gear metaphors and so on. But a machine runs on every single gear, and even one gear malfunction can stop the entire machine. They _mean_ something.

...Now, if only they'd settle on the paper.

"You're waffling, dear Jewel," said the clone that brought her into the base- maybe a week ago now? Time is hard to study on a moon. He settled a plate of strange cubes on the table next to her. "The unlimited cosmos must be intimidating to one unacquainted with them."

"My planet didn't have stars until, like, a month ago. It's been an adjustment."

The clone blinked down at her, gobsmacked. "How did you see?"

"Fire. Glowy bugs. Sometimes magic."

He slowly shook his head. "What a shame, for a world to be without Prime's light for so long. Not unlike this world, I suppose."

Michelle hesitantly scratched out another constellation. Weird stuff, constellations. She wondered what kinds Etheria would have made. "Lord Prime said this was his favorite view."

"Of course. That is why we fight for it so vehemently. But one who sees and knows all... rarely has to see the same scope more than thrice." He rubbed a notch in his ear thoughtfully. "Perhaps he has sent you here as a gift. Perhaps he misses the sky as well."

"Then he can come see it himself."

"You're quite the odd Jewel," he commented. "Stubborn. Blunt."

"Hmm," she said. "Does he send all his Jewels here?"

The clone straightened, shoulders flattening. "There is only one Jewel. And, even if there was, I wouldn't know them."

"Riiiight."

"I must go," he rumbled, and did an awkward half-jog to get out of the room faster. The hum of the other clones turned into gentle, hissing static. Michelle thought that might be considered laughter.

* * *

By the fifth map, Michelle is certain she's going crazy. For a bunch of gas, space sure moved a lot. Stars she thought were stars turned out to be cargo ships. What she mistook as a shooting star was just, well, someone shooting. Michelle knows Prime won't accept anything less than perfection, and simply tosses her failures aside.

They've also been bombed twice. That tends to make the hand a little unsteady.

The third attempt comes when she's looking through the telescope. The line of light curves in the scope, looking almost like a ring. Michelle, only half-awake, starts to scribble it. The light bends. She erases. One final twist and it was heading straight for the glass observatory.

 _Oh_ , thinks Michelle, dumbly. _I should probably get back_.

As usual with Prime technology, her wings react before she can. The metal horrors blanketed her face and upper body mere seconds before she could jump back, stumbling around in search of her knife. Had she left it by the chair? No. By the papers? No. Had someone snuck it off her while she rested?

Glass shattered like snow under a thick boot, crunching and crinkling. The smell of ash and blood hits Michelle in waves; she knows this smell. The Hive shrieks in fear and outrage- what would Horde Prime think, they cry, when he finds out that not only has his precious view been mangled- so has his Jewel?

Michelle's hands close around a familiar handle, and the world turns rightside up again.

The air is alight as she took off into it. Ships. Just two. It's less of an armada and more just a couple of pissy recruits, lashing out at their distant encampment. The model twists and turns in ways no Etherian- or First Ones- tech ever has. She buried a helping of relief, and tried to maneuver herself to go up. Her wings are great shields, but slow and clunky in practice.

The voices conjoin into a single word; **shrapnel.**

Michelle's wings twist alongside her stomach, setting her into a standstill as she looked around- flying debris was as dangerous as any stun stick. "Where?"

A sizzling, hissing sound caught her attention. She turned to see the blaster powering up, ready to go off. It's trained on her.

 _Oh,_ thinks Michelle, even dumber. _I should probably not have done this._

"Jewel!" howled a voice, and then there was something heavy slamming into her, the solid cold ground, and dust filling her nostrils. Michelle calls herself and the spaceship even and passes out.

* * *

"Wake up, Jewel. Do you hear? The battle has died down."

Michelle cracked her eyes open. Her line of sight was red with clay and a breather mask. A quick check of her systems revealed a lot of bruises but surprisingly little blood. "Izzit over?" she slurred. "I coulda... taken them.."

A warm, purring chirp soothed her as strong claws worked into her shoulders. "I don't doubt it, Jewel. It was very brave of you- attacking a ship with a blade." The clone paused. "Foolish, but brave."

"Better than making star maps all day," Michelle croaked, slowly gathering her limbs under her. The world is dark. A quick check reveals rocks on all sides. "Is this-"

"Landslide," he agreed. "Not to worry. I was able to put up a force bubble in time, and your mask should filter any particles out of your lung systems. Now they'll just have to dig us out."

"...How big is your staff, again?"

He grimaced, and Michelle knew it would take a while yet.

That was fine. She could handle that. Michelle _thrived_ in small spaces. She sat up entirely now, noticing with a detached distaste that her wing was bent. The whine of the Hive is back again, stronger: _the jewel, the jewel, the jewel is cracked. Oh, what will Lord Prime say?_ But behind it all is that litany: _shrapnel, shrapnel, shrapnel._ It mushes together into nonsense words. _Shrapnelshrapnelshrapnel._

The clone followed her line of sight. "That must hurt."

"They always do." She let the metal spread out, creaking against the stone. "I wasn't built to fly. I could sort of hover, before..." Michelle swallowed. "Before."

"Lord Prime has given you quite the gift."

"He likes his jewelry to look nice."

"You aren't jewelry. You are his Jewel. It's very different."

"I'm not the first. I won't be the last. I'm just-" she broke into a bitter chuckle. "He'll get bored of me eventually."

"Lord Prime never tires of anything. He simply finds brighter futures ahead."

"Is that what happened to this place?" she asked, and he looked away, and Michelle realized she had night-vision in this mask as well. Neat.

As if sensing their discontent, the chant comes back again. Stronger, now. _Shrapnelshrapnelshrapnel! Speak to us! Let us know you're well! Is the Jewel with you?_

Michelle's breath caught. "That's... that's your _name_ , isn't it? Shrapnel?"

Shrapnel flinched and fixed her an awkward half-smile. "It's more of a title than a name. It makes battle commands easier." His ear twitched dismissively. "Though it doesn't really matter now. Lord Prime will know when he searches your mind."

"He'll... do that zappy thing to you?"

"No," he said, and shook his head. "I am not pristine. I am a mockery of his visage. He has allowed me this place, this space, so I might still be useful. But now I am unpure. I am Named."

Michelle opened her mouth to argue, then snapped it shut. This wasn't a place of prolonged secrets. This wasn't Etheria. Horde Prime would know the moment he dug too deeply into her visit. Shrapnel wouldn't simply lose his memories- he'd lose far worse.

"I won't let it," she said finally, shaking herself. "You've been- very accommodating to me. Kind. I know it's just because I'm a Jewel, but... I want to repay you."

"What do you suggest?" he asked, head cocked.

"Can you help me draw a map?"

* * *

The final synthetic nerve popped free with a truly unfortunate sound, sending Michelle huddling over her star chart with some difficulty. She bit her lip to avoid crying- or, worse, throwing up- on the final product.

"My gift is in shambles," Prime tutted, bending the metallic wing out with his bare hands. "Damaged and filthy. You should have called for transport back."

Michelle eagerly pushed the map over to the side. "I wanted to finish your task, Lord Prime."

He hummed. "I suppose I can forgive this one time. No one was around to see my toy broken. But don't let it happen again." He plucked the map up with one hand, settling the other on the crook of her neck. "Something troubles you, My Jewel?"

"Can you... not look into my mind for a moment? I want to say this to you in person."

Prime blinked and removed his hand, torn between confusion and what could best be described as a _very-close-to-throwing-a-tantrum_ anger. Michelle had already assumed he wouldn't like that boundary, however temporary, and slid off the table to bow. "You've allowed me to see the cosmos, Lord Prime. It's a gift no other Etherian could have been given, and I might have wasted it even if I had. I've come to realize that I am selfish, and insolent, and I want to be made pure."

Prime's eyes widened a little. Now he just looked pleased. "A cleansing, My Jewel?"

"Yes, Lord Prime. If you will have me."

"How could a kind god ignore such a plea?" The hand was back around her neck again, softly stroking her chip. "Rise, child. Let us walk into light together." Michelle did so, chin to her chest. She wasn't scared. Not really. But her hands shook regardless. "I've yet to have a Jewel willingly surrender to the splendor of rebirth, you know. It's a nice change."

"And it will erase my mind?"

"Parts of it. You memories, your past. All will be wiped clean for me." He tapped the side of his head with a knowing smile. "But the personality remains."

"A gift," she realized, and his smile grew. Prime took the hand from her neck and held it out for her. She took it, praying that he wouldn't notice the tremors. But who to pray to, out here, except for him? "I'm honored."

* * *

_Michelle notices the star map on one of their walks one day, pausing to look at its etchings. Something familiar niggled at the back of her mind. "It's very detailed," she noted, hoping that will make things clearer. It doesn't._

_"It is," Prime agreed, tapping her chip with his thumb in his usual possessive manner. "Recently bequeathed as well."_

_"Shrapnel?"_

_"Stars, My Jewel."_

_"Ah," she said, tracing the paper. "That makes much more sense."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter idea hit me hard out of nowhere at work and I've been slowly working on it ever since! Prime is a creep, but I really enjoy writing his character. I've just always had a love for villains who honestly believe they are The Shit, especially manipulative ones. The idea for Shrapnel came along fairly quickly into the process as well- I wanted to explore the dynamics between clones and kids like Michelle, who are mostly just there for decoration. I also wanted to write about little, unintentional rebellions that might happen amongst them, like giving a beloved clone a name so that they might find him easier in a battle.
> 
> -Mandaree1

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this sometime during the beginning of season 5 after checking in with my buddy who owns the OC, then kinda stopped, then they were like "bro I'll pay you" and I was like "well shit man if it means that much to you I'll finish it regardless of payment" and here we are! This is an AU of an AU, obviously- this wouldn't make any sense to the timeline in the current series- and was mostly just me fiddling with Michelle and Prime as a whole.
> 
> I read a lot of warriors as a kid- as anyone who's spent two seconds near my Ao3 page or tumblr can tell you- and one concept that hit me hard as a kid was the idea of someone believing they're right, and how powerful that can be. This guy (cat) committed so many horrible acts, but never once did he doubt himself, and he always thought he was the good guy. That's the kind of aura I think draws in people, and it's the aura I saw a lot of in Prime.
> 
> -Mandaree1


End file.
